American Anal

Cherie Deville shuts down Markus Dupree's visa and the room tilts. One minute she’s cuffing him, the next his hands are on her wrists, steel biting into her skin. He drops her to her knees and shoves his cock straight down her throat, holding her there until she gags, spit running down her chin. Every corner of the room gets used: she’s on her back across the couch, upside down, head hanging, throat open. When he finally pulls out, he slams into her cunt first, then pulls her ass open and sinks in, stretching her until she yelps. He rigs her up proper—leash, leather straps, cuffs, spreader bar, ball gag—stockings still digging into her thighs. The flogger paints red lines across her cheeks; each strike makes her drool around the gag. Then he’s back inside her ass, pounding until it’s a slick, gaping ring. She sucks him clean and he flips her again, drilling deeper, making her hole bloom once more. A leather collar pins her neck; ankles and wrists are locked. He fucks her like a machine, rag-doll tossing, pounding until her eyes roll and her body goes slack. One final thrust and he paints her face white. Cum drips off her lashes. American Anal. The visa might still be fucked, but Cherie’s ass isn’t.